


Burden

by tonys_wolf



Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Top!Sam, non-established relationship, virgin!frodo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonys_wolf/pseuds/tonys_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam rescues Frodo from the clutches of the orcs after the attack from Shelob, and in his relief that Frodo is alive, something deeper comes through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burden

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is my first fanfiction ever, and my first published pr0n story. So there. Sorry it isn't extraordinary.

His naked skin was scarlet in the light of the lamp and he was facing a small slit in the stone wall, one of four poorly designed windows in the room. It was facing east, out across the wasteland plain, Mt. Doom visible on the horizon.

“I was so scared, Sam. I thought it was going to end here.” whispered Frodo, his voice trembling.

“I was afraid too, Mr. Frodo. Afraid it was all for naught, coming to Mordor. Afraid I’ve gone and lost you.” Sam said from behind him.

Sam had been very afraid, fighting his way up the stair to the highest room in the tower to rescue his master. He was afraid that he was dead, that Shelob had finished him, but the joy in his heart that he was still alive, and the anger when the orcs had taken him away had strengthened him, gave him courage to charge into the tower, to kill the guard that threatened Frodo there on the floor.

Frodo dropped his head, fighting tears. Sam had come for him, even after what he had done. After he had turned his friend away, told him to _go home._ He knew he’d be dead now if Sam had heeded his words.

“I’m so sorry Sam. You were right about Gollum. About everything.” His shoulders shook in anguish. Sam came closer.

“It’s alright, Mr. Frodo.” he said as he came even closer, now standing directly behind. The small chamber was warm from the heat burning in the large, low lamp. Frodo turned his head towards Sam, their faces a hand’s breadth apart.

Sam’s heart was pounding. He was very aware of how naked Frodo was and yet another feeling was washing over him. Passion. It worried him. He’s always admired Frodo for his strength, and sense of purpose. How from that day in Rivendell, he took responsibility for the Ring, and carried it across Middle Earth. He knew the toll the ring took on him. He saw it in his eyes, sitting around the fire with their fellows, or later on, curled up in a crevice as they crossed the craggy Emyn Muir alone. Sam had known for a while that he loved Frodo, but the degree of that love was a mystery. Often he had caught himself staring at his neck as he walked behind him, the brown curls on his head revealing the soft flesh there. How it angered him that the weight of the Ring had caused bruising marks there. He had found himself staring at his back as they bathed themselves in Lothlorien, his lean muscles making him bite his lip and turn away in confusion. Or how when Frodo and he climbed the Stairs of Cirith Ungol, he had unknowingly provided Sam with a thought-provoking view all the way up.

“I’m here now.” Sam whispered to Frodo, his brown eyes unwavering, lit with that passion. Frodo had his eyes closed, to fight back tears, and suddenly, he felt a press of lips on his. He opened his eyes in surprise and gasped, and Sam pulled away quickly. He looked embarrassed, like he had been caught watching Frodo sleep again. In all this time, he had never planned to act on his feelings he felt for Frodo. In the wave of emotions he was experiencing, the moment had swept his control away. Frodo stared in wonder for a slight moment, not understanding the way his body sang when Sam had touched him so personally. He decided in a split second that he needed more.

As Sam started to back away, Frodo reached back and caught his head, pulling him in for another kiss. Sam moaned in pure joy and shock, as Frodo found his fingers winding in Sam’s blonde curls. He opened his mouth willingly, almost begging Sam to explore. The taller hobbit did so, his tongue slipping in to dance with Frodo’s, licking and nipping at his lower lip hungrily. It was a relief from the stout depression, the never ending feeling that he was on his way to his deathbed. Frodo’s nerves absolutely buzzed, and he spun himself about to face Sam, gripping the other’s collar, searching for a way in, a way out.

Sam took the hint and broke their connection long enough to help him untie and pull off Sam’s tunic. Frodo marveled at the changes the journey had on Sam. He was no longer the slightly portly gardener. He was a strong, muscled traveler, his abs taking definition in the low light. Frodo ran his hands along them shyly. It was like the world around him was dark and Sam was a lone lit candle, never wavering, rock solid. He couldn’t begin to comprehend this feeling and he didn’t really have to urge to try now.

His need became more apparent as he leaned back in for more of Sam’s kisses. Sam’s hands were at his friend’s sides, feeling his bare ribs. It broke his heart to see how thin he has become. The Ring somehow had brought him to this state. Sam didn’t understand it, but he did know that he wanted Frodo more than the sulfuric air that he breathed. He trailed his hands up his arms, feeling Frodo shiver. That encouraged him, and he moved his efforts to his neck, kissing the pulse point alongside his Adam’s apple, catching his thin pale skin lightly between his teeth. Frodo let out a gasp of air, letting him know that he found a weak point, a gateway.

Frodo wrapped his arms around Sam, trying to melt into him. Sam ran his hands down his back, over his arse, small and tight, kneading it in his hands. He had to have him, there was no question of it. Sam slid his tongue up Frodo’s neck, slipping it into his ear.

“Frodo.” he whispered, and hoisted him up, carrying him over to the single piece of furniture in the room, a rough, low wooden workbench. Frodo became all at once very aware of how naked he was, as he slid his arms back, pushing the random tools and other implements aside. Sam continued his ministrations, hands in his thin hips now, standing between Frodo’s legs.

“Sam.” Frodo said slowly. “Yes?” he responded, straightening to look at Frodo’s body, laid out in front of him. His eyes fell on Frodo’s scar on his chest, where the Ringwraith stabbed him what seemed so long ago on Weathertop. He slid a hand up to trace it, his brow furrowed. Frodo shivered, partially at Sam’s touch, and partially in remembrance of the cursed blade sliding into him. Sam looked up at the other’s clear blue eyes.

“What are we doing?” Frodo asked carefully.

Sam leaned down to kiss his collar bone before murmuring into his neck, “Whatever you want.”

He slid his hands up Frodo’s sides, catching a nipple with his thumb. Frodo arched his back, pressing into his touch, feeling heat pool into his lower abdomen.

“It is what you want, Mr. Frodo, isn’t it?” he said, pulling the other nipple into his mouth, using his tongue and sucking like a babe. Frodo gasped, arching again, pushing his hips up into Sam, begging to be touched.

“Yes.” he breathed, eyes looking up into the ceiling.

Sam had to admit he was playing dirty. He wanted Frodo, and he was going to have his way. Sam felt the burn of lust, the feverish urgency of passion making his blood boil. They were both slick with sweat now, the heat from the red lamp warming the otherwise chilly room. Sam still had the Ring in his pocket, and if he had taken a moment to ponder it, he would have wondered if it was causing this behavior in him. He had his mind on other things though, so it didn’t occur to him.

Working kisses down his torso, Sam looked up at Frodo, who was panting now, eyes wide. Sam dipped his tongue into his navel, and nibbled at the skin beneath it. Frodo felt his dick twitch with approval, and he moaned Sam’s name. His hands were holding Frodo’s hips again, and Frodo’s hands found his. He wrapped his fingers around Sam’s wrists, needing something to hold on to, to keep him grounded as Sam teased him.

The blonde kissed the crease between Frodo’s right leg and torso, brushing his cheek against Frodo’s cock as he did so. Frodo moaned, biting back pleads for more. Sam’s own dick was hard, pressing almost painfully against his trousers, at the sight of him falling apart at his touch. Sam pulled up and looked at Frodo, eyes bright, and licked the tip, causing Frodo to jerk. Sam tightened his hold on his hips, pinning him down. Frodo took the hint and fell still.

Sam looked back down, and focused on the job at hand, which was to fit as much of that gorgeous prick in his mouth as he could. It was already dribbling with precum, and Sam tasted him on his tongue. He slipped his mouth over the head, and probed the slit. Frodo’s breathing sped up as he tried not to buck up into Sam’s warm inviting mouth. His tongue laved the underside of the head, before he slid more of his length into his mouth. Sam soon found himself reaching an end, as his gag reflex fought back.

He growled in frustration, because he wasn’t there yet, and Frodo writhed with pleasure at the vibration. Sam was on his knees now, and he squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to relax, before pushing him in another inch. Frodo let go of one of Sam’s wrists to grab at his hair, cradling the base of his skull. That was enough to make Sam push again, shoving the rest of him down his throat, and his nose met the soft curls of Frodo’s groin. Tears rimmed his squeezed-shut eyes, and his hands slipped from their position on Frodo’s hips, and to the table. Frodo took the opportunity to hitch into Sam’s mouth, reveling in the sensation. He did it again, taking Sam’s head in both hands.

Sam felt the roles reverse, as Frodo slid off the table to stand. He took charge now, fucking the blonde’s mouth. All Sam could do was grope at the other’s thighs for stability, tears streaming down his face. He was seeing stars from lack of breath. It wasn’t long though, until they were both trembling, and Frodo came with a spasm, a cry bursting from him that caused the crows to flee from the rooftop. His seed spilled down Sam’s throat and there was nothing he could do but swallow it. Frodo pulled himself free from Sam’s lips, cum running from the corner of his mouth, lips red and swollen. Frodo saw the tears streaked through the dust and road grime on Sam’s face and he instantly felt ashamed of himself.

“Oh Sam..” he said, cupping his face. Sam rested his head against Frodo’s leg, panting. “I’m so sorry. Oh Sam.” he repeated.

Sam shook his head slowly against Frodo’s thigh. “Don’t.” he croaked, his throat raw from the pounding it just received. He looked up at him, smiling crookedly, clearing his throat. “Don’t be.” he said louder.

Frodo slid down to meet him on the dirty stone floor, and kissed him, tasting himself on Sam’s lips, wiping away the mess on his chin. Sam pulled Frodo into his lap, and rocked, holding him tight. He could feel Sam’s erection press against him, reminding him that he had needs too. He picked at the strings, untying his breeches, and Sam grabbed his hands up.

“Let me.” he said, and Frodo looked up at Sam, and nodded. Sam released his wrists, and Frodo crawled back as Sam shed the rest of his clothes. A nagging thought reminded Sam that the Ring was still in his pocket, but his throbbing cock pushed that from his mind. Frodo’s eyes fell upon it, and they widened slightly. It was a deep red, and thick, jutting toward him, begging to be touched. He reached out for it, gripping it in his hands.

Sam’s breath hissed from between his teeth, and Frodo moved his hand up and down, running his hand over the tip to catch the precum there, easing his motions. Sam stopped him before long though, pushing him away gently with his hands.

“Stop.” he said. Frodo just looked at him.

“But, don’t you want it?” he said, not understanding. Sam bit his lip before speaking.

“I want you.” he said simply. Frodo understood. Sam wanted inside him. He still felt sort of boneless from before, but he couldn’t help but want Sam, want to please him like he was. His gut fluttered at the thought of Sam filling him up, and the blonde leaned forward to kissed Frodo, biting his lip and interrupting his thoughts. Sam’s hands wandered down past Frodo’s spent prick and beneath to his most hidden place.

Frodo sucked in a breath at the unfamiliar sensation and would have shirked away if he didn’t totally trust Sam, and he couldn’t help but be intrigued. Sam’s fingers brushed against his pucker and at the same time, he ran his tongue along Frodo’s neck. His hands were shaking as he tried to calm himself, the need to come setting his insides on fire. Gently, he pushed Frodo back on the ground, hovering over him. He drew his hand up, trailing them over Frodo’s lips.

“Open.” he said, and Frodo did instantly, unthinking. He drew two of Sam’s fingers in his mouth, mimicking Sam’s earlier undertaking, running his tongue over the calluses and scars and getting them thoroughly wet. His eyes stayed trained on Sam’s face; his brown eyes staring back, smoldering. Sam let out a soft moan, and pulled his fingers away.

“Enough.”

Frodo was panting, and his eyes closed for a moment, only for them to fly open again when he felt Sam’s finger breach him. He let out a gasp and Sam’s eyes furrowed despite his lust-riddled brain, stilling his movements. “I’m alright.” breathed Frodo, and only then did Sam continue. He turned his palm up, searching for it. He smiled when Frodo arched, raising his hips to him. He added another thick finger, stroking that bundle of nerves.

Frodo’s cock stirred, much to his shock. He looked down at Sam, mouth open as he panted. The blonde scissored his fingers, stretching him, and Frodo moaned aloud, his head thunking back down on the rough floor with an audible thump, eyes squeezed shut. When Sam thought he was ready, he added a third, which wrenched another whine-like moan from the smaller hobbit.

“Sam, please...” he said, his words catching in his throat. Sam bared down on him, slowly drawing in and out of him, building up the pressure, glancing against his prostate every other stroke.

“What do you want?” Sam growled, stopping. He stared down at Frodo, who’s eyes where still closed.

“Tell me.” Frodo’s tongue flicked out, moistening his lips.

“More.” he said. Frodo’s felt the blissful pressure disappear and he looked up, eyebrow’s drawn up in confusion. Sam caught Frodo’s hips up in his hands and put Frodo’s legs over his strong, tan shoulders.

“How much more?” he said, spitting in his hand and stroking himself back to full hardness. Frodo’s pressed his pelvis towards Sam, hooking his ankles behind Sam’s back.

“All of it.” he groaned, wanting nothing else. Sam pressed against Frodo’s stretched hole, and tried to slide in slow, but Frodo bucked, and slammed against him. Frodo’s eyes were wide, his body clenching around Sam’s cock at the sensation of being filled. Sam gasped in surprise, then groaned, biting his lip to try and focus, feeling as if he could come from this alone, just being still inside Frodo’s hot, fluttering body. He let out his pent-up breath, and slid his hand up Frodo’s body, reveling once more in the beauty of his pale skin, until the brunette couldn’t take it anymore.

“Move, please move...” he breathed, and Sam was all too happy to oblige, setting a slow rhythm.

Frodo’s breath gushed out of him at every thrust, and he grabbed at Sam’s arms, pulling him down for a messy kiss. Sam knew he couldn’t hold out much longer, the excitement getting to him. He felt a wet spot spread between them as Frodo rubbed off on his stomach. He bent to bite Frodo’s neck like an animal, almost bending him in half as he bared down, his hips twitching faster now. He needed release now, needed to fill Frodo up, mark him forever as his own. The new angle sent Sam’s cock skating across his prostate at every turn, and Frodo was now actively moaning, unable to form words.

“Touch yourself.” Sam almost spit out between gritted teeth.

He did, pumping his hand in time to Sam’s increasingly faster movements. Moments later, Frodo cried out, coming for the second time, and he clenched around Sam. He came only seconds after, his rhythm erratic as he rode through the wave of sensation, before collapsing over Frodo.

He realized that all of his weight was on Frodo, and went to move, but a pair of hands grabbed on to him, holding Sam still.

“Don’t leave me.” his voice pleaded, and Sam looked down at his pale eyes. They looked sad, even though Frodo’s skin was shiny with sweat, and his face flushed.

“Please.” he added, and Sam shook his head, turning on his side so he wasn’t crushing him any longer.

“I won’t. I promised Gandalf. I’m promising you.” he said, snaking his arms around him and holding him close. He could feel his heart fluttering and sighed in contentment. Frodo nodded, looking as if he was about to cry. He buried his face in Sam’s neck, hiding his emotion. He couldn’t do this anymore. He had to be strong. Thoughts of the journey ahead rushed onto him like an avalanche. Despite himself though, Sam could feel warm tears run down his neck, and Sam rubbed Frodo’s back, trying calm him.

“The ring, Sam. The ring is gone.”

At that Sam pulled away to look at him. “No.”

Frodo looked at him in confusion. He saw it, and explained himself.

“I took it from you. I thought you were dead. And then those goblins showed up, said you were alive, took you away.” He looked into Frodo’s eyes, and he saw there something that scared him. The same thing that resided in the hateful creature Gollum’s eyes.

Desire. Pure, evil desire.

Frodo’s pushed away from him, scrabbling at Sam’s body as if he had it hidden somewhere on his naked skin.

“Where is it?!" he hissed, and Sam sat up, reaching for his discarded breeches. He didn’t want to give it to him, he knew that it did this to him. And as he groped inside his pocket, his fingers wrapping around the chain, he felt the urge to keep it. He somehow felt that Frodo didn’t deserve it, that he lost his chance at it. It was his now.

Sam’s eyes widened at that train of thought, and he yelped as if he had been burned. So this must be what it’s like. To have to carry something so evil, so twisted. Sauron had poured his menace into this artifact, and it warped everything it touched. Frodo grew impatient.

“Give it to me!” he said, holding out his hand. Sam reluctantly held pulled it from his breeches and held it out by the chain, the golden ring glinting in the low light. Frodo glared at it hungrily, and expression mirroring something like from before, but none of the beautiful lust, only hateful longing. Sam looked at it as well, feeling again those thoughts of keeping it, just denying it of Frodo. He was strong enough, he could fight Frodo off if he had to. Kill him, if it come to it..

“Oh!” Sam said out loud, unbelieving of what he just thought. Luckily, Frodo’s arm snaked out and snatched it from his hand. Sam’s face fell, hurt that it had come to this. He watched as Frodo stroked the ring, a small smile upon his face as he put it around his neck, the unnatural heavy weight pulling it down, cutting into his neck once more. He looked up at Sam, his eyes clearing for a moment.

“It’s better this way, Sam. It’s my burden to bear.”

And as Frodo got up to get dressed, acting as if their passionate love-making didn’t just happen, Sam did the same, thinking _No. It’s our burden, Frodo. And I’ll do everything I can to help be rid of it. To see you happy again._


End file.
